Twenty-Eight Reasons to Love You
by Unsocialite
Summary: It was borderline disgusting how the two of them fell deeper into adoration with every interaction.
1. Nothing Without You (Part 1)

_Author's Note:_

_This is more of a booklet that I'll to work through my writer's block. Nothing will be chronological unless I mark otherwise. Any arcs will be labeled in the table of contents. _

_Thanks for reading!_

* * *

"… best to let it go…"

"No improvement…"

"—stay like this."

Sound came in awkward, stilted instances and her eyelids were cemented shut with no light penetrating through the thin skin. It would have been poetic if she didn't feel so damn _numb_. There was literally no pain—she felt certain that she had died because there was no reason for her to live through that and feel _nothing_. As a matter of fact, she was expecting to be in full-fledged body spasms with hospital workers swarming around her, trying to revive a body that had given up.

"… something, then."

She must be dead. Death was pretty annoying if all she could see was darkness and hear strange phrases and words coming out of nowhere. No heaven or hell, just like she and Spencer had argued about.

_Ow._ The missing pain from earlier manifested itself into a deep ache. Guilt and grief assaulted her as she thought about her raggedy man. Leaving him hadn't been her choice, and her body certainly hadn't given a fuck about emotional ties. Blood had poured out of her at an alarming rate and she was surprised that she had even stayed alive long enough to see him again. Blood loss was funny that way, she supposed.

"That kid—"

"Would be devastated."

If she had the ability to frown, she would have. Why should she give a shit about what anyone is dealing with. This was _her_ death and she would lament what she wanted. She began to feel overwhelmed as light began to blind her and a cacophony bombarded her hearing.

"We can't stay here, we need to move on."

"We need to give it a little more time, Aaron. Give _him_ a little more time."

"Shut… up." Her voice was hoarse and weak, going unheard. She was able to blearily take in her surroundings, noting a red button to her side. If it was a button and it was red then the consequences could go either way. Pressing the button forcefully, she waited for some sort of calamity to befall her and send her back to the dark, sensory deprived sleep she had been in.

A person in white came to the doorway, thankfully breaking up the two people disturbing her. As they all, for some godforsaken reason, approached her, her eyes slid shut and she welcomed the darkness.


	2. Never Listen to Anyone

"So why are you with him?" Morgan leaned in close, as if he was asking her the question intimately instead of in front of the entire team. There were a couple of things that were wrong with this scenario, she would admit, and she would bite her tongue until he pushed her too far. The edge was approaching and she would greet it gleefully.

But for now, everyone was looking at her, anticipating her answer. Most likely expecting some teenage tripe about him being the love of her life and how "perfect" Spencer was.

Smiling and hiding the irritation for the most part, she smiled and turned toward Spencer. "I think you are one of the most amazing people I have had the honor of meeting, and I'm so glad that you are a part of my life." She held eye contact with Spencer, refusing to speak about him like he wasn't there. The blush that lit up his face, and the tiny smile he tried to hide, made sitting through this entire dinner/interrogation worth it.


	3. Nothing Without You (Part 2)

Spencer sat in the waiting room, his hands covered in blood and his clothes covered in ash. He was stooped low in his chair, impatiently waiting for the news that he knew and hoped wasn't coming. His eyes were burning with the repressed desire to cry, because Morgan was right next to him and the last thing he needed was to show how much this entire even had _destroyed_ everything. Carmen was—she was—

"Reid..." A hand settled onto his shoulder to provide some form of comfort, surely, but instead felt like a lead wait. It was then that he realized his breath had sped up and his shut eyes had moisture seeping out. No, no, no. To cry meant he had given up, meant that she was _dead_ and nothing more could be done and there was no way he could handle even the _thought_—

"Spence," JJ's soothing tone reverberated in the space near his ear as her small arms wrapped awkwardly around his shaking frame. It reminded him vaguely of how she would hug Henry when he scraped his knee. He hadn't even realized that the team was here, though he hardly cared they saw what a mess he was. The only thought running prevalently through his mind was the cross Carmen had tattooed on her forearm, and if there was a god _please, please _let her live because he couldn't take it if she… "Morgan, take him to the bathroom to wash up—there's blood on him. We brought his bag, take it with you so he can change."

Spencer wiped away his tears with the backs of his wrists, mindful of the blood caked onto his hands. Inhaling deeply and ignoring the hitch in his breath, he followed Morgan to the bathroom where he mechanically washed up.

"What… What did she say to you on the phone?" Morgan's voice was quiet and careful.

Slowly buttoning his shirt up, he took his time to answer. "She said… That next t-time, I shouldn't worry about proposing so much. She s-said that if I'm sure about wanting that person in my life, they w-would say yes. Then… she said she loved me but she wanted me to not let th-this hold me back. Then she hung up. Morgan," Spencer looked at his older teammate, eyes red and glassy. "She _knew_ what was going to happen. She was certain she wouldn't live and told me to move on. A-and I c-couldn't…" He broke down crying again.

When Morgan moved in and held Spencer, his heart heavy with the events that had occurred. But he swore he felt actual pain when Spencer couldn't even finish his sentence.

"_I h-had that ring in m-my pocket for months a-and I couldn't get over my nerves…"_


End file.
